It's time you knew about Kim Wilson's nose. Well, not her nose so much as her overly sensitive sense of smell, her hyperactive olfactory if you will.Take this past week for instance. As we are walking to the car from the Kress Inn, Green Bay, Wilson pipes up with: "It smells like elephants out here." I have lived with her long enough not to question her further on this sort of thing but instead just to shake my head in wonder.
In addition to asking me if I just farted (I once said: "No. Would you like me to?"), I get a runnng commentary on smells that I cannot for the life of me get my own nose to hone in on.
This brings me to my favorite Kim's nose story.
I am working down in Stone City, Iowa, at a great little folk club called "The Stone Cutter's Pub", sharing the stage with a really goofy guy from Coon Valley, Wisconsin.
We are invited to an after hours party at a little house just across the bridge on the Wapsipinicon River. The barley pops are going down easy and goofy and me, well, we are trying to out-goofy one another.
Fnally, the goofy guy spots the Purina Dog Chow bones and pops one in his mouth, crunches loudly and then washes it down with his beer. Not to be outdone, I follow suit. the contest continues for quite some time with the whole place in stitches.
For some reason I didn't sleep all that well that night. I got a rather late Sunday morning start for home with a mouth that tasted like the Hungarian army had marched through it with their boots off. I have to admit it kept me awake all the way home.
When I get home, Mother Nature calls and I make my way to our bath room at the end of the hall and I evacuate. I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and as I am coming out of the bathroom, Kim, who is way out near the kitchen yells: "It smells like dog poop in here."
Busted!
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